


My Friend's Got a Bruise On His Leg (Every Time You Speak)

by Chash



Series: Pulling Taffy [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: It's Bellamy's idea to spend more time with Monty. Or, really, its Bellamy's idea to spend more time with Wells, so he can spend more time with Clarke, and, as a side-effect, Nate can spend more time with Monty.Not that that translates into Nate actually being able tointeractwith Monty, but maybe that's his next step. If nothing else, he's developing a functional relationship with an internet penpal. So he's notcompletelyinept.





	My Friend's Got a Bruise On His Leg (Every Time You Speak)

**Author's Note:**

> This is an adaptation of the book _Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda_ , albeit in simplified form because, you know, real books have lots of subplots and I'm not about that life. And, yes, I'm sure I'll write a Bellarke-focused continuation at some point, because I AM about that life.

Nate's life gets infinitely more complicated in sophomore spring, when Bellamy decides the two of them are going to be friends with Wells Jaha, which Nate is pretty sure is actually about Clarke Griffin. Not that Bellamy's ever actually admitted that, but while Bellamy pretty much likes Wells, he doesn't actually like Wells any more than he likes anyone else on the soccer team. But he _loves_ baiting Clarke into arguments, and Clarke is Wells' best friend, so, yeah. It's totally about Clarke.

Not that Nate minds. Clarke's cool. The two of them actually went to pre-school together, and there are all these pictures of them as kids, missing half their teeth and ready to raise hell. They went to different elementary schools and fell out of touch, but neither of them has ever forgotten that first connection, that old friendship.

Wells' other friends are pretty much good in his book too, so he's happy to start sitting with them at lunch regardless of Bellamy's true motivations. And it's only a little because Monty is there. 

Up until Bellamy's _let's befriend Wells_ campaign, Nate hadn't had much direct interaction with Monty Green, which was probably for the best. They were in a few classes together, and Nate would try to look at him without looking at him too much, because he has a nice smile, and hair that's always falling into his eyes, and glasses that are always falling down his nose. He's Nate's type, but Nate is awful at interacting with people who are his type. Which means that socializing more with Monty doesn't actually help. He just sits next to Bellamy and lets everyone else carry the conversation, and it's actually kind of terrible, because Monty is _funny_ , and smart, and everything he says just make Nate like him more, and makes it harder for Nate to figure out how to interact with him.

He's not good at talking to cute guys, okay? It's a miracle he can talk to Bellamy. And, really, if he and Bellamy hadn't been friends since third grade, before Bellamy went through puberty and got muscle definition and an amazing jawline, Nate isn't sure he _would_ be able to talk to him. But, as it is, he and Bellamy have been best friends for long enough that he can just avoid being attracted to him.

Which is nice, except that being into Bellamy might actually be an improvement over being into Monty. If he was into Bellamy, he'd just talk to Bellamy about it, and Bellamy would probably turn him down both because he's straight and because he's clearly stupidly into Clarke Griffin, but that would be fine. It would mean the feelings we resolved, and Nate could move on to new feelings.

And those feelings would probably be for Monty, so--fuck his life, honestly. In conclusion.

But it doesn't get really bad--really, _really_ bad--until the email thing.

The email thing feels stupid and risky literally the entire time he's doing it. It starts, of course, with the tumblr thing, so that's a bad start all by itself. No good ideas come from tumblr, from what Nate can tell. But he and Bellamy had ended up in a stupid fight with some of the football kids, because Bellamy's always spoiling for a fight when it won't get him in trouble, and football kids are always willing to call him poor and stupid and all sorts of other names. This time, they said his mom was a slut and his sister was picking up the family business because Bellamy was too busy sucking Nate's dick to take care of her, which was, in addition to almost hitting intersectional bigotry bingo, so stupid and wrong and gross that even Nate got involved in the fight. School doesn't start for another week, which means it's a fairly safe time to pick a fight, as it goes. 

"Fuck," says Bellamy. His lip is split and his eye is already turning black, and he's looking down at his broken glasses with a grimace. "Those are going to be expensive to replace."

"You could just switch to contacts all the time," Nate says. "Stop denying the world your pretty face."

"They _enhance_ my pretty face, dickweed. Tilt your head back," he adds, giving Nate a critical once over. "Your nose is bleeding."

"It's because you're so hot without your glasses."

"Yeah, I'm a real catch right now." He sighs. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" asks Nate.

"They wouldn't be dicks to you if they didn't want to be dicks to me. Shouldn't have dragged you into it."

That's what gets Nate thinking, really thinking, because everyone just assumes that Bellamy is some jock, and it's not like it's exactly an unfair assumption. Bellamy wears shallowness like armor, to keep everyone from seeing any more tender parts than they have to. People know he's poor and dark and fatherless, and that he was fatherless when his sister was born. They know he plays soccer and gets in too many fights and has a chip on his shoulder, but they don't know that he's teaching himself computer programming because he thinks he could make good money doing it, that he started taking Latin because he _loves_ Latin, not because he thought it would be good for the SATs, that he comes to Magic: The Gathering tournaments with Nate and they've been to DragonCon _twice_ , that his mother taught him to sew and he makes Nate Halloween costumes and cosplayed with him once.

And no one knows about Nate either, not really. Nate's silence works as armor, but Bellamy does too. It makes him think, sometimes, of something he read once, about how there are all these meteors that would hit the Earth, but they run into Jupiter instead. That's how he feels about Bellamy: he's a bigger target, and Nate gets out unscathed, most of the time, and no one knows that.

No one knows anything about them, not really. Nate's not even sure sometimes how much _he_ knows about Bellamy, and he knows more than anyone else.

Bellamy pushes himself up off the ground and offers Nate his hand. "Come on. We better get cleaned up before your dad sees you."

There's a convenience store on the corner, and because the universe hates them, Monty Green and Clarke Griffin are already in there, buying Oreos and chocolate milk. Clarke spots them first, and Nate sees her eyebrows shoot up, hears Bellamy's soft groan before he says, "Hey, Griffin. Green," voice full of false casualness.

"Blake," says Clarke. Her eyes flick to Nate. "Miller, is your nose _broken_?"

Monty's watching him, which means that his voice basically refuses to work. He looks like he got a little taller and broader over the summer, and he's still basically Nate's favorite person to look at, which means he really shouldn't be looking.

Bellamy blocks for him, like always. "Shit, is it actually broken? Get some napkins, I'll get hand sanitizer."

" _Hand sanitizer_?" Clarke asks, sounding vaguely horrified. "You're going to treat that with _hand sanitizer_?"

"Did you have a better idea?" Bellamy demands, and Clarke rolls her eyes. She asks the guy at the counter if they have a public bathroom, and Nate grabs a pack of napkins while they're distracted. He'd feel bad using up all their paper towels.

The clerk lets them use the bathroom, and Monty says, "You know you're not actually a doctor, right?"

"None of us are doctors."

"I don't need a doctor," Nate mutters, and Clarke flashes him a tight smile. 

"Nope, you've got me."

"What do I have?" Bellamy grumbles, and Clarke rolls her eyes, leaning in to help clean Nate up.

"Not a concussion, if you're lucky. Wait your turn, Bellamy."

"How did this happen?" asks Monty. "What were you doing?"

"It's not actually hard to get in a fight," says Bellamy. "The football team is pretty much always ready to throw down."

"You say that, but I never get into fights," Monty says, and then pauses. "Okay, well, me and Jasper used to get beaten up a lot, but then we made friends with Wells and he has muscle definition, so we're pretty much good now."

"It's not about muscle definition," says Clarke. "Bellamy and Miller have muscle definition. It's just impossible to punch Wells."

It's not exactly true, but Nate thinks he gets it. Befriending Wells and Clarke shifted where Monty and Jasper fit into the social hierarchy. They went from being nerds to being neutral, and there's no reason to beat up the neutral kids, so long as they don't make waves.

"Okay, you're good," Clarke tells Nate. "Switch with Bellamy."

Bellamy was leaning against the bathroom wall next to Monty, which means that if Nate doesn't do the same, it will be weird. Bellamy settles down on the toilet seat, and Clarke says something soft to him, soft enough Nate can't hear. Her tone is chiding, but Bellamy's face is soft, and Nate has to look away.

Monty's smiling a little, and when he turns the expression on Nate, it feels like a physical blow. But a nice one.

"She actually did a pretty good job," he offers, just as private as whatever Bellamy and Clarke are saying. "With your face."

"Cool," he says. 

It would be nice if he could think of something to _say_ to Monty Green, anything to say, but Nate's beyond shitty at small talk even with people he _doesn't_ want to kiss. And Monty is, well--Nate doesn't know what's under the surface of Monty Green, even less than he knows what's under the surface of Bellamy Blake. But he knows that Monty is _vibrant_. When Monty smiles, the whole world lights up. He can't believe anyone in the world could punch Monty. He's so much less punchable than Wells.

"You ready to go back to school?" Monty asks, into the awkward silence.

"As I'll ever be," says Nate. "You?"

"Is it weird if I say yes? My parents decided I needed to get a job this summer, and it turns out I'm really not ready for the working world. I was selling hot dogs and now literally everything I own smells like pickles and regret."

Nate smiles, and it makes Monty brighten like the fucking _sun_ , which doesn't even make sense. But Nate's never going to object to making Monty Green smile. He wishes he could do it more often.

"What does regret smell like?" he asks.

"Pickles, but sadder." Before Nate can come up with another response, he startles, pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Wells is waiting for us, Clarke," he says.

"Yeah," says Clarke. She pulls back from Bellamy, studying him critically. "What happened to your glasses?"

"Casualty of war."

She winces. "Shit. That's going to be a pain."

"Thanks for your concern, princess," he snaps, because he is a certified dumbass who doesn't know how to just _like a girl_. Not that Nate knows either, but he has the whole gayness thing as an excuse. "But really," he adds, recovering a little. "Thanks."

"Try not to get any bones broken before school starts," she says. "Later, Miller."

Bellamy drops his head back as far as it will go, eyes closed. "That went well," he says, and Nate knows it was the first time he'd seen Clarke since the school year ended, just like it was the first time Nate had seen Monty. They're school friends, not summer friends. They barely even saw Wells, except for pickup soccer games.

"She couldn't keep her hands off you," Nate shoots back, and Bellamy huffs a laugh.

"Yeah. When you put it like that."

That's what he's thinking about when he submits the post to the tumblr, this long, rambling reflection on the vast universe inside his best friend, about all the things people don't know about other people, about how Monty Green smells like pickles and regret and smiles like sunshine, and Nate wants to know everything about him, but doesn't even know how to ask his favorite color without tripping over his own tongue.

He doesn't really read the ark-secrets tumblr, doesn't keep up with all of the stupid gossipy bullshit on there, but it feels like the only place he can really talk about this now, somewhere some football kid might see it and think twice about how much he actually knows about, if not Bellamy himself, then someone _like_ Bellamy, someone else who doesn't deserve a beating.

And maybe someone will bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles for him, too.

He doesn't really expect anything to come of the post, but it does make him feel better to just _vent_. That's the thing about being kind of quiet and anti-social; it's hard to let loose that often. Which is probably why he slips, _And no one knows I'm gay_ into the post, even though it doesn't quite fit. He just needs to say it _somehow_. Until he's ready to tell Bellamy.

It takes a few days for the thing to be posted, long enough that he'd be kind of worried it wasn't going tone, except for the note at the top of the page that says, _We run posts on a queue, please don't contact us about when your post is going up unless it's been more than a week_. So he just checks every few days and feels kind of stupid about it. He shouldn't even _care_ about this. It's not a post about who's sleeping with whom or which popular people secretly hate each other, so he doubts it's going to get much traction. But he's weirdly proud of it. It was some decent writing.

It ends up getting posted on the first day of school, so Nate doesn't see it until he gets home. It has a smattering of notes, but not too many, a few likes, a few reblogs, one _lol fag_ , basically what he was expecting. He follows the reblogs but can't identify any of the users as real people he knows, and none of the tags are very exciting.

The next day, though, in addition to some more low-key homophobia, there's a comment from someone who's just put their username as _Taiga_ , and it's actually great. _This is the best post on this entire site. You're my new hero_. And then there's an email address, _taiga-burning@gmail.com_ , with the note _In case you need someone to talk to_ , and Nate's heart flips for no good reason.

It's just--that _is_ what he needs. Someone with no ideas about him, someone he's not self-conscious around. Someone simple. And here's someone who's offering. And they _could_ be an asshole, someone who's trying to get his personal information to out him or something, but Nate wasn't born yesterday. He knows how to protect his online identity. He can just get a burner gmail account, and if this person is trying to figure out who he is, he won't talk to them.

It still feels so _stupid_ , though, the whole time he's doing it. He writes the email and then fails to send it for a few days, just staring at the draft and trying to think of scenarios where it could bite him in the ass, where he ends up hurt and miserable and alone.

Which is, of course, impossible. His best friend is Bellamy Blake. He's never going to be _alone_.

So he sends the email and immediately closes his laptop and goes to faceplant on his bed.

And that's the start of the email thing.

*

Taiga is great. Like Nate, he's a junior at Ark, but they don't exchange much other demographic information. They're both cis-guys and they both ID as non-straight, although Taiga is having a little more trouble with the specifics.

 _I've dated some girls_ , he writes one afternoon, _and it's not like it was BAD? I like kissing, I like relationships, but there was kind of always something missing? And I can't tell if it was the actual individual girls or girls generally, you know? I wasn't really into them or anything before, it was just one of those "my friend says her friend likes you" games of telephone, and then we "dated" for a few weeks and then it just kind of fizzled out. I don't really get a lot of crushes, I guess, so that makes it hard. I feel like I should commit to a sexuality before I'm interested in anyone._

Nate sits on it for a day, thinking about it as he watches Bellamy and Clarke bicker about TV shows over lunch. Monty's off in his own conversation with Wells and Raven, and Nate feels both included and detached. That's the thing about being quiet; you're a part of the group, but you're also not really participating.

 _I guess I've never felt like I get much of a say in crushes_ , he writes back that night. _If I thought I couldn't have them, I just wouldn't. I would opt out of feelings so fast._

Not that gradually developing feelings for Taiga seems that bad, at least compared to most of the feelings he's developed in his life. Even if he's not sure about his sexuality, he's definitely into guys, and Taiga is smart and funny and interesting. 

Best of all, he's _safe_. He's not real. He exists in Nate's computer screen, and Nate can like him, think he's a cool guy he'd probably like to make out with without any risk of having to be out in the real world or even having to use his own voice. He can be as articulate and interesting as he always wants to be. Most of the pros of a relationship, and none of the messy stuff.

 _I guess I get that_ , Taiga responds. _I feel like a crush would be fun? Which is maybe stupid of me, because when my friends get them all the do is complain. But it always seems like nice complaining to me. Like they'd be sadder if they WEREN'T upset about how hot that one asshole is. And then I just make kind of comforting noises and wish I had my own asshole to complain about. And, yes, I know exactly how that sounded, and I'm sticking with it._

Taiga usually responds either very early or very late, Nate has noticed, before school or after dinner. He's trying not to read into it, trying not to wonder what Taiga does with his time, if he's on a sports team or in a club or--

"Hey, you want to go spy on the play?" Bellamy asks him, startling his attention away from his phone. Soccer hasn't actually started up yet, but coach wanted to give some sort of pep talk to the cross country kids about how they can definitely do soccer in the spring, and he asked some of the returning varsity guys to help out. Which was mostly Bellamy being inspirational and the rest of them nodding along, but it didn't take long, and since neither he nor Bellamy has a car today, they're still stuck at school until the late bus shows up.

"You know you can just say Clarke, right? I know you want to spy on Clarke."

"She's not the only person we know who's doing the play," he says, and Nate rolls his eyes.

"Yeah? Name one other person."

There's no hesitation at all. "Monty. Raven and Monroe are doing tech." He perks up. "I bet Raven's got heavy lifting she needs help with."

"If we're doing that, we should get Wells to come too," Nate points out. "You know. In the spirit of camaraderie."

"Oh, yeah," says Bellamy. "Good call. Hey, Jaha!" he shouts, because _indoor voices_ are not something soccer players tend to believe in. "Get over here!"

"What do you want, Blake?" he asks. Nate thinks he might have been trying to sound irritated, but that is honestly outside of Wells' capabilities. Even in the middle of a heated game, he's probably the most even-tempered person Nate has ever met.

"We're going to go see if they need any help with the play. Moving sets or whatever. You want it?"

"It's like the first week of rehearsals," says Wells. "I don't think they even have sets yet."

"They probably need help with something," says Bellamy. "Unless you've got something better do until the late bus shows up."

"I'm waiting for a ride from Clarke," he admits. "Let me just grab my backpack."

The three of them walk over to the auditorium together, Nate trying to figure out a response to send to Taiga when he gets home. There _is_ something nice about the fluttery feeling of a crush, but there's something stressful too. He doesn't _want_ his heart to pick up at the thought of seeing Monty, doesn't want to feel guilty and nauseated about having that same reaction when he sees he's got an email from Taiga.

There is no rational reason that having a thing for two different guys--one of whom is (as far as Nate knows) straight, and the other of whom is entirely virtual and possibly trolling him--should make him feel bad. But thinking about Monty and Taiga at the same time is difficult for him. And it's hard to avoid doing that when he thinks about the pros and cons of crushes, because they both are crushes, in their own ways. And they both kind of suck.

 _I guess I don't relate much when my friends have crushes_ , he writes that night, thinking of Bellamy and Clarke sitting next to each other on the stage when she was done with her scenes, alternately bickering and working on their homework. _Because of the gay thing. I see my best friend with the girl he likes and I just don't get what the problem is. I think it should be so easy for him. Whenever I get a crush, it just feels hopeless, so I'm annoyed that other people act like theirs are so bad. And then I feel like a dick, because even if I knew I had a crush on another queer guy, I'm not sure I'd do anything about it._

Taiga is, as he expected, understanding about the whole thing: _I get that. It's really easy to feel like everyone else's crush is simple, and you're the only one with a good excuse. But, obviously, our excuse IS really good, and everyone else is wrong._

Nate's smiling, but the next line of the email sinks his stomach: _Can I ask how you knew you were gay? Or is that weird? If it's weird, just ignore this and awkwardly change the subject. I won't even call you out on it._

It's one of his morning emails, so Nate's dad calls him for breakfast before he can respond, and once breakfast is done, he has school to get through before he'll have another chance to do it. He kind of likes that, though, having a whole day to consider what he's going to tell Taiga, how to respond. And in a lot of ways, it's not a difficult question. 

The most difficult part of it is, honestly, explaining why his sexuality is a _secret_. Which isn't something Taiga asked about, or something he theoretically _needs_ to justify. It's no one's business but his own.

But he knows his dad would support him, and his mom too, whenever he got around to telling her, and Bellamy would, and even all his tangential people, Wells and the team and Monty and Clarke and their friends, they'd all be cool with it.

It might even be nice to tell them. But he can't get around to convincing himself of that.

"You know you're on the phone, like, all the time now, right?" Bellamy asks after school. They're hanging out at his place, playing video games and theoretically watching Octavia, except that Octavia is at that age where she just spends all her time in her room. For all Nate knows, she's climbing out her window using her bedsheets every afternoon and living some kind of exciting twelve-year-old double life. But if she is, she's home by dinner and Bellamy hasn't noticed, so more power to her. 

"Not all the time," he says, switching away from the window with his Taiga email to a much safer game of Bejeweled.

"A lot," says Bellamy. He grins. "Secret identity?"

"Yeah, I'm actually a super spy," he says, dry. 

"Nathan Miller, international man of mystery." His expression sobers. "Seriously, it's not bad, right? It doesn't look bad, but--"

"It's not bad," Nate promises him. "Just trying to increase my Twitter followers. I think I could be the next dril."

Bellamy snorts and turns his attention back to the game. "Dream big."

 _I don't feel like it's a very exciting story, I guess_ , he writes to Taiga. I've been doing team sports since elementary school, so I always got a lot of locker-room talk. In case you aren't a sports person, that's a great way to find out you really see women differently from straight guys. I know it's also supposed to be a great way to figure out you're gay, based on what I've seen in bad porn, but that didn't really help me much. I knew all the guys too well to really get attracted to them. So I suspected, but I wasn't really sure about it until I went to my cousin's wedding and the groom was honestly the hottest guy I've ever seen. It was like getting hit in the face with a 2x4 of hotness. Suddenly all the songs about attraction made sense. Clouds parted, angels sang, the whole deal. And I was thirteen and in the middle of a wedding with my extended family, so it's not really a cherished memory, honesty. So awkward.

He reads the message over, starts a new paragraph, adds, _How's your sexuality going, by the way?_ and sends it before he can change his mind.

"I made a friend," he tells Bellamy. "Online."

"Yeah? Do you like them better than me?"

"Definitely. I'm never talking to you again."

He smirks. "Yeah, that's not much of a threat. You barely talk to me now."

"Cool. So, friendship over?"

"Sounds good." He makes a face as someone snipes him. "Your dad working late tonight?"

"Yeah. You going to feed me?"

"I bet your new internet friend could feed you," he teases, and Nate snorts.

"Don't be jealous, Blake. You're still my one and only."

They have dinner with Octavia, and Nate finds out that seventh grade sucks and she's ready to be in high school, and _also_ ready for her brother to stop being an overprotective dickhead, and then finds out from Bellamy that she shouldn't be using that kind of language and he raised her better than this.

He has to hide his smile in his cup of water; dinner with the Blakes is always the best.

His dad still isn't home when he gets back, but he does have another email from Taiga, brief and oh-so-sweet: _Definitely into guys. I'm leaning towards bi? But also maybe picky, I guess? I'm just not attracted to most people, I don't think. But I'm open to the idea of guys. Into the idea of guys, even. So, yeah. I'm going to say bi for now. Until further notice. And just to you. But it feels good._

Nate bites back on his smile, sends his response immediately: _Cool. I'm happy for you._

*

Finding out Taiga's identity is basically the opposite of a priority for Nate. At least, that's what he tells himself. He doesn't want to know. It would complicate things, knowing who Taiga is. It would make him real. Worse than that, it would make _Nate_ real, and he can't help thinking that the real him would be a let down. Online, he's the best version of himself: articulate, somewhat funny, able to think over his words without coming across as weird or slow.

But the thing is, all those are reasons he doesn't want Taiga to know who _he_ is, reasons he doesn't want the two of them to meet. But he'd like to know Taiga's secret identity, would like to know it a lot, if he's honest. If he knew, he could adjust his expectations, come up with a plan. Try to be kind of good in person. More like he is online.

He doesn't think Taiga means to drop hints about his identity either. They don't talk about themselves, have yet to discuss meeting in person at all. But Nate finds out little things, because he's the kind of person who pays attention. He's used to learning more than people intend to tell him, and it's not hard to apply that to Taiga's emails too. It would be harder not to do it.

Taiga isn't into sports, so his after-school commitment is something else. He takes Spanish for his foreign language, like the majority of the junior class. He and Nate have the same English teacher, but Ms. Arden has two sections of eleventh graders, so he might not be in Nate's actual class. He seems to know a decent number of people, but his close friend group is fairly small: he has, Nate is pretty sure, twp people he refers to as _best_ friends, one guy and one girl, and a handful of other people he hangs out with regularly. He likes video games, which isn't that remarkable these days, but he tends to the more niche, indie stuff, along with more popular things like _Overwatch_ and _Breath of the Wild_.

He has a Switch, which is also pretty notable.

Of course, he thinks about Taiga being Monty. It's impossible to avoid thinking about Taiga being Monty, because that would be the neat, easy solution. The guy he already liked being his new internet crush would be convenient and thrilling, and all of the individual facts check out. He and Monty are in the same English class, Monty takes Spanish and plays video games. His best friends are Jasper and Clarke, both of whom have love lives that they might complain about to Monty. Well, he assumes Clarke has an actual crush on Bellamy, and that she's annoyed about it enough to complain. That's always been his read on the situation.

But it's confirmation bias. Each new fact he discerns about Taiga could be true of Monty, but none of them are really that unique. The junior class is full of people Nate doesn't know, and statistically speaking it's most likely one of them. Just because it _could_ be Monty, that doesn't mean it _is_.

Sometimes, he's not even sure he wants it to be Monty. Because--well, he thinks Monty likes him well enough. Monty would say they're friendly, if not friends, and he seems happy to chat at Nate when no one else is available, and sometimes even when they are. If he's noticed that Nate is particularly incapable of talking around him, he hasn't noticed it. He seems to just think Nate is quiet jock, and that's basically true, but--well, he thinks Taiga likes him. If Taiga is Monty, and Monty finds out Nate is his internet penpal, Nate can't help thinking it's going to be a disappointment. Someone who doesn't know him, it won't be as bad. They won't have a notion of who he is already. And maybe their online friendship will make a real friendship easier.

Maybe he could get a real boyfriend, if it's not Monty. But if he's going to get a real boyfriend, he'd kind of rather it _was_ him.

The whole thing basically makes his head hurt.

It's Halloween when he first thinks it maybe really _could_ be Monty, and it's just as terrifying as he thought it would be. Maybe even more so.

Of course, it's not that inherently different from anything else; at heart, it's still confirmation bias. But the evidence feels stronger, the connection less universal. It feels more unique than _liking video games_ or _having the same English teacher_.

Part of that is that the confirmation doesn't come from Nate himself. His Halloween plans are unexceptional and uninspiring: his father is working, so he's staying at home to give out candy. Which he doesn't mind; he's not much of a party person. But Wells is throwing a party, which means that he and Bellamy are invited, and Clarke will probably be there, so Bellamy is going, and Nate would like to be there too. He's no use as a wingman, but he's pretty great moral support, and Bellamy is such a stupid _mess_ over this girl. He needs all the help he can get and then, ideally, even more help on top of that.

But he's alone, so it doesn't go well.

 **Bellamy** : I'd say you're missing out on a great party but it's mostly a fucking shitshow  
Also I accidentally made out with Roma Fletcher so  
Hope you're having a better night than I am

 **Me** : Dude  
How do you ACCIDENTALLY make out with someone?

 **Bellamy** : It was related to the general shitshow  
Fuck, I don't know  
Jasper and Monty got in a fight

 **Me** : And it was so traumatic for you, you made out with Roma Fletcher?  
What did they fight about?

 **Bellamy** : I think it was about how Monty talks to Clarke and Wells more than he talks to Jasper now, and how Jasper is being left behind  
This is just what I got from Clarke when she was hanging out alone on Wells' back porch

 **Me** : Before or after you made out with Roma?

 **Bellamy** : Before  
You know me  
I put my foot in my mouth, me and Clarke had a fight, I decided to make out with Roma to blow off steam

 **Me** : If you're already making bad decisions, why not keep going?

 **Bellamy** : Yeah, I'm going to get that stitched on a throw pillow  
Fuck  
I know she doesn't give a fuck whom I make out with  
We're not dating  
She doesn't even like me  
But I still feel like a dick

 **Me** : Does she know you use "whom" in text messages?  
I'm pretty sure that's a turn-on for Clarke

 **Bellamy** : I really wanted to make her feel better

 **Me** : You probably did  
Clarke likes fighting with you  
You probably didn't actually screw anything up

 **Bellamy** : Yeah  
Still feels like I blew it  
We finally hang out in a social setting and it all goes to shit

 **Me** : You think it's serious with Monty and Jasper?  
Is this going to destroy the fragile ecosystem of our lunch table?

 **Bellamy** : Fucked if I know  
At least we've got each other

 **Me** : Good thing I wasn't there  
We probably would've had a fight too

 **Bellamy** : I don't know, maybe I would have made out with you instead of Roma  
That would have been an improvement

Nate's fingers freeze on the phone, his heart constricting for no good reason. Textually, it's impossible to interpret the statement, and he doesn't know if it's a joke or a come on or a sign that Bellamy has figured out his sexuality or _what_.

 **Me** : Yeah?

 **Bellamy** : Definitely less awkward  
And more fun  
How was your night?

 **Me** : I gave candy to kids  
No drama at all

 **Bellamy** : Lucky you

 **Me** : Are you drunk?  
Do you need a ride home?

 **Bellamy** : It's fine, Sterling is DD  
I'm on my way home now

 **Me** : Cool  
I'm pretty sure whatever happened with Clarke, you didn't fuck it up forever  
But you should maybe just try telling her you like her and asking if she wants to go out

 **Bellamy** : It's like you've never even met me

 **Me** : Sometimes I wish I hadn't

 **Bellamy** : Love you too  
Any leftover candy I can come steal tomorrow?

 **Me** : Half a bag of Twix

 **Bellamy** : Awesome

The whole conversation makes him anxious and itchy. He's worried about Bellamy, not sure how upset he really is about whatever happened. If it went wrong, Nate assumes it was with Roma, not with Clarke, that Roma thought they were hooking up as a first step, whereas for Bellamy it was a shitty decision because sometimes he makes shitty decisions. But, knowing Bellamy, he could be the only one who will even remember this. Nate loves him, but he's an expert at feeling guilty about literally nothing. 

And then there's the _maybe I would have made out with you instead of Roma_ thing, and he has even less idea of what to do with that. Is Bellamy into guys too? Is this his way of coming out? Is he supposed to treat it seriously, or was it just Bellamy being Bellamy?

It's not fair the party is giving him this much stress, considering he didn't even _go_.

Taiga was also going to a party, and Nate was saving his own response to his email from this morning until after the evening was over. He sends a quick update--gave out candy, kids had no idea what my costume was--and asks how Taiga's night was. It's not _about_ Monty, of course. He'd ask regardless. But if Taiga is Monty, he might allude to _some_ sort of drama.

And that would be nice, because he's a little worried, and he doesn't know how to check in. From what Bellamy said, it sounds as if Monty was at the center of the drama, and Nate wants him to be okay, but even if Nate knew how to talk to him, it would be unspeakably awkward to ask him about a party he didn't go to and only heard about second hand. They're not that kind of friends.

There's no response when he goes to sleep, and none when he wakes up the next morning. Bellamy shows up at ten, after dropping his sister off at swimming practice, and collapses face-first onto the couch without even a greeting.

"Anyone ever tell you you're kind of overdramatic?" he asks, mild.

"I feel like I should be helping," Bellamy says. "But I'm not really that involved."

"You can't actually fix everything."

"Yeah, and when I tried I made it worse."

"It doesn't even sound like it was about Clarke. She's probably fine. It's Monty and Jasper I'd worry about."

"And Wells. I guess Jasper had a thing for Raven at some point so he's--" Bellamy waves his hand vaguely. "He thinks Wells and Raven are going to hook up, and then Monty and Clarke will, and he'll be alone and sad or whatever."

Nate makes a face. "Monty and Clarke?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction."

"And if _you're_ not worried about it," Nate teases, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

"I wasn't going to say it, but yeah. There's no way Clarke and Monty are hooking up. But it was kind of stressful for everyone."

"Good thing I've only got one friend. No group dynamics."

"Just you and me," he agrees. "You got those Twixes?"

They get candy and boot up _Overwatch_ and play for a while in mostly silence, aside from occasional swears and trash talk, until Bellamy finally offers, "I don't think you need to worry about Monty and Jasper."

"Yeah?"

He shrugs. "Jasper feels left out. I think it's the kind of thing they can deal with. It was like--everyone else is in the play or on a team except for him, Monty's moving on, whatever. Change is scary, but they're pretty solid."

"You know you were the one who was worrying, right?"

"Yeah, well. I'm always worrying."

"I don't think Clarke cares you made out with another girl."

He snorts. "Yeah, I don't either. That's not actually comforting. I want her to care. I'd care if she made out with someone else. Not, like," he adds quickly. "She can do what she wants. But--"

"But you have a giant, stupid crush on her and you want to marry her and have her babies."

"Pretty much, yeah." He sighs. "It was really obvious, right? You knew before."

"Basically as soon as we started hanging out with Wells, yeah. He's cool, but you barely interact with him."

"Great, good talk," he says, and stuffs another Twix into his mouth.

He leaves after lunch to get his sister, and Nate checks his email again to find Taiga's response has come in. He's not expecting proof, because he can't really prove it. But it could be disproved, if Taiga says he had a fun, no-drama night.

Instead, he gets more possibility: _It was fine, I guess. Okay, "fine" is too strong a word. It was weird. Parties are always weird, I feel like? They're supposed to be awesome and fun, and they can be, but it's also heightened emotions and drama and I don't think I've ever been at one that didn't involve a blow up. No one got to the locking themselves in the bathroom stage, but I had some arguments that I didn't know I should be having, and then our DD dragged us home early because she had some of her own drama, and that car ride was, I swear to god, the most awkward fifteen minutes of my life. But I think we all came out stronger and better? I don't know. Maybe I'm just riding high on the lack of hangover. But yeah. One word party review? Weird. Definitely weird._

As with everything else he knows about Taiga, it's inconclusive, but it doesn't rule Monty out as a possibility. And it feels like a more solid connection than anything else, but probably about 75% of their class were at parties last night. And, like Taiga said, everyone always expects parties to be great, and then there's _some_ drama.

The worst part is, he can't tell if he's trying to talk himself out of this because he wants Taiga to be Monty or not. He doesn't know if he's trying not to get his hopes up or terrified that it really _could_ be Monty, trying to talk himself out of it.

First period on Mondays is English, and it's kind of awkward. Monty, Jasper, Clarke, Wells, and Bellamy are all in the class, and he and Bellamy are almost always the first ones there. Ms. Arden has this couch that they're allowed to sit on on a first come, first serve basis, and usually when Bellamy and Nate claim it, the rest of their group will join, but this time all of them sit at separate desks and are kind of awkward.

It's concerning, but he can't really do anything about it until after fourth-period calculus. Clarke is in his class, so they usually walk over to lunch together. It's typically a quiet walk, but he feels as if he should be saying _something_ about the whole thing. Even aside from Bellamy's crush, he likes Clarke, and he wants to know how everyone is doing.

"Heard I missed quite a party," he finally offers, and Clarke snorts.

"Is that what Bellamy said?"

"Something like that. Are you guys--good?"

Of course, Clarke doesn't let him get away with the ambiguity. "Which of us?"

"All of you, I guess. If there are new feuds I need to know about--"

She smiles. "As far as I know, we're all good. Monty and Jasper have a free period second, so they got in some BFF time, Wells is always good, Bellamy's Bellamy. I assume you're fine."

"Pretty good, yeah. You and Monty dating yet?" he adds, and she laughs and elbows him.

"I'm holding out for you."

"Wow. No offense, but you're going to be waiting a long time."

Her smile is easy and teasing, and he's not even a little worried she's serious. "I'm sure you're worth it."

Bellamy has Latin across from the cafeteria this period, so he's already at the table when they get to it. As one of the only members of their group to bring his lunch, it's his responsibility to hold onto the table while everyone else is in line.

Nate's not sure if Clarke catches the look of relief on his face when she puts her books down across from him, like always, but Nate does, and he puts his own books down to Bellamy's left. "You want anything from the hot food line?"

"If you buy me a milk I'll give you half my cookie."

"Deal."

By the time he's got his meal, the rest of the table has filled in, Monty between Clarke and Jasper, with Wells on Bellamy's other side. Nate flashes Monty a small smile, and Monty returns it easily, brightly.

That's what Nate would worry about losing, in the long run. If Monty is Taiga, it doesn't feel like things could just be _easy_ anymore. He wouldn't have Monty's quick smiles or Taiga's casual emails. Things would change, and he doesn't think it could be for the better.

Bellamy kicks him under the table. "Dude, where's my milk?"

Nate rolls his eyes. "Asshole," he says, handing the milk over and reining in his commingled hope and dread.

Monty can't be Taiga. There's just no way.

*

And then, suddenly, he is.

It's the first weekend of December, and Bellamy and Nate are at a Magic: The Gathering tournament. It's the first one they've made it to since the school year began, and Nate is pretty excited. They're playing two-headed giant, so they don't have to bring any of their own cards _and_ get to be on a team together, which is far and away his favorite way to play Magic. Serious tournaments are too much stress, but goofing off with Bellamy is great.

Except that Monty and Jasper are there.

In many ways, it's not surprising. If someone was picking which two people in their friend group played Magic, Nate's pretty sure they'd go for Monty and Jasper with no delay. It's a lot more surprising that he and Bellamy play, which is honestly part of why they keep quiet about it. The jocks would make fun of them for being nerds, the nerds would accuse them of being bullies who needed to leave them alone, and it would just be way more of a headache than Nate ever wants to deal with.

But Jasper and Monty are at least their friends, so when Jasper spots them, he lights up like it's his birthday.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? I do believe I've found some closet nerds."

"Are we in the nerd closet?" Bellamy asks, unimpressed. "I wasn't really trying to hide it. Monty and I are _Overwatch_ friends and everything."

"Yeah, Bellamy doesn't shock me," says Monty. He turns his attention to Nate. "I wouldn't have expected you."

"Who else is going to be my other head?" Bellamy asks.

"Clarke, if you asked nicely," says Monty, innocent.

Bellamy usually tries to play it at least a little bit cool when it comes to Clarke, but the statement is so unexpected that he actually jumps in surprise. "Wait, Clarke plays Magic? Is she here?"

Nate honestly can't tell if the prospect is exciting or upsetting for him, but Monty actually _smirks_ , which is unfairly hot and definitely terrible for Nate's whole life. 

"Not today. She's doing some art thing. But I'll let her know you asked."

"Dick," says Bellamy, without heat, and Monty's smirk turns into a grin, which isn't really much better. "Do you guys do this a lot?"

The two of them exchange a slightly uncomfortable look. "Not for a while," Monty says, which Nate takes to mean that this was one of the things that Jasper felt was being neglected as a result of their expanding social circle. "But Team Taiga is back!"

Nate doesn't choke. But he does ask, "Team Tiger?" with deliberate casualness.

"Taiga," says Jasper. "Monty's favorite card."

"It's _my_ card," says Monty. "Red/Green dual land. Mountain Forest. Monty Green."

"And he still only plays Red/Green."

"You're just jealous your name doesn't give you a natural draft pool."

Nate's still having a little trouble breathing. It's not conclusive, but--it's such a specific thing. Nothing has contradicted Taiga being Monty, and here's this giant neon sign that Taiga is a meaningful word for him. 

And for Jasper, but--it's not Jasper. It can't be _Jasper_.

But it really might be Monty. His internet crush might be his _actual_ crush. 

And his internet crush, at this point, might be more honestly called his internet _boyfriend_. They've been getting as serious as they can while still not knowing any identifying information about each other. And it had been weird, still feeling his stomach swoop when Monty smiled, when he gets the same swoop every time he gets an email from Taiga. It was something he'd been avoiding dealing with, because it didn't feel like a meaningful conflict. They were both unreal, in their own separate ways.

And now they're both real, and they're both Monty. He's almost positive.

"You okay?" Bellamy asks, low, once they're headed for their first game. He's pretty sure Monty and Jasper couldn't tell anything was wrong, but--Bellamy is his best friend. Bellamy always knows.

"Yeah," he lies. It's just that Taiga's been talking about wanting to meet, too, and Nate's been resisting. It felt like too much of a risk before and now--well, he knows Monty wouldn't be a dick, no matter what. But all that means, really, is that he thinks Monty would let him down easy. And no matter how nice he is about it, it's still going to be Nate's heart getting broken.

Twice.

"I know," Bellamy says, voice too light. "I don't want to lose to Jasper either."

Nate has to laugh. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

There's a pause, and then he says, "Whenever you want to tell me, I'll listen."

"Yeah," says Nate. "I know."

They do decently well in the tournament, albeit slightly worse than Monty and Jasper do, and they go for burgers with them after. It's--honestly not that bad. Everyone else carries the conversation, but Nate gets in a few wry comments, and every time he laughs, Monty seems to treat it as a personal victory.

He can't help thinking it might be okay. Not _good_ , maybe, but--definitely okay.

His courage only goes so far, so he gives it a couple days, waits until a plausible amount of time has passed before he sends: _There's no good way to say this, but I think I know who you are._

He can't concentrate on his homework after. He can't think about anything. He just keeps looking at his email, waiting for the response, his whole body alight with nervous energy. It's as if he's plugged directly into a live wire. He doesn't know how to _stop_. Monty's at rehersal right now, anyway. He won't reply for a little while. He _can't_.

 **Me** : Don't ask questions  
Just tell me to breathe

 **Bellamy** : Breathe  
Hydrate  
Take a walk  
Or just pace a little  
Jumping jacks are good 

**Me** : Thanks

 **Bellamy** : Sure  
I'm going to start asking questions soon

 **Me** : Yeah, I know  
I'm going to tell you soon

Luckily for his frayed nerves, it doesn't take _that_ long for the reply to come after Monty gets home, but he still has to steel himself to open it. Because no matter what Monty says, there are going to be consequences. He still has to deal with it, and that's in the best case scenarios.

The actual email he gets is much closer to the worst.

_I think I know who you are too! I know you didn't want to do this, but I'm so glad we are. I really want to meet you. So, here are the things I know about you:_

_1\. You go by your last name_  
2\. Your first name is one of the top fifty boys' names for our birth year  
3\. You want to be a doctor  
4\. We recently had a long discussion about the future of the DC cinematic universe 

He stares at the email for a long time, trying not to let the hollow feeling in his chest completely take over. Because--that's not him. Whoever it is, it's someone else, someone he doesn't know. Even if he's wrong about who Taiga is, the person Taiga is talking about is definitely and without question _not_ him.

He wets his lips and dials Bellamy's number.

"Dude," says Bellamy, by way of greeting. "You've never called me in your life."

"I know. Can you come over here or do I need to come there?"

"Here's better. I can pick you up if you want, but I shouldn't leave O for that long." 

He closes his eyes, letting out a long breath. "Nah, I can drive. Just need some company. I'll be there in like twenty minutes."

"You sure?"

"I can be in control of a vehicle, don't worry."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. I don't want to read about you dying in a car crash, Miller."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine."

He takes a few more deep breaths, even does a couple jumping jacks, like Bellamy said. And then he reads the email again, and makes himself reply, once he's googled the top fifty boys' names for 2000: _Yes, apparently, no, definitely not. Sorry, Monty. It's not me._

Then he closes the laptop and drives to Bellamy.

He's sitting on the front steps of his apartment building when Nate arrives, even though it's cold and kind of damp out, and when Nate arrives, he stands, blowing on his hands.

"Hey," says Nate.

"Hey. I thought you might want to take a walk."

"What about your sister?"

"I told her we were taking a walk and I'd be back in twenty minutes," he says. "She said she hopes you feel better."

Nate has to smile. "I'm not feeling bad."

"Yeah? So what are you calling it?"

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and starts walking, letting Bellamy follow him. He hadn't realized how much _not_ telling Bellamy this stuff was weighing on him, not until the taste of admitting it was on his lips. It's still hard, but as soon as he says, "So, I'm gay," there's a rush of relief, instantaneous and uncomplicated.

It just feels so good to have it out there.

"Okay," says Bellamy, voice a little careful. "Thanks for telling me."

Nate considers him. "You're not surprised?"

"I thought you might be. Not in a bad way, just--you don't really talk about girls much. Except girls I like. It seemed like a pretty decent possibility. But--like I said, thanks for telling me. It means a lot."

"You totally rehearsed this."

"Well, I didn't want to fuck it up if it happened."

Nate laughs. "Man, sometimes I wish you were my type. And you weren't straight and totally in love with Clarke Griffin."

"I think I'm probably bi," he says, thoughtful. "Still working on it. But, yeah, there's the totally in love with Clarke Griffin thing."

"Like I said, you're still not my type."

"Fuck you, I'm beautiful." He looks at Nate sidelong. "So, was that it?"

"What?"

"You just wanted to come out?"

"Oh. No. Fuck. I don't even know where to start."

"Something about your phone, right? Secret boyfriend?"

"Kind of." He rubs his face. "I guess--I started talking to this guy I met on ark-secrets."

Bellamy cracks up, which he deserves. "Holy shit, the _tumblr_?"

"Shut up."

"How did you meet someone on the tumblr?"

Honesty is definitely the best policy. "I submitted a post about how you're actually the best dude ever, and he liked it."

"But seriously."

"Swear to god," says Nate. "I wanted the whole world to know you're a fluffy marshmallow."

"Didn't work." He bumps Nate's shoulder. "Thanks for trying, I guess. What about the guy?"

"He liked the post, we started emailing. I liked him. Really liked him. But I didn't want to actually get to know him. In real life."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not great in real life. Online, I could be smart and funny and not fucking shy all the time. I didn't want to let him down."

"We're gonna come back to that one," says Bellamy. "But you should finish first."

"I figured out who he is. And he's--I know him. I already had a crush on him. It should be fucking perfect, but--he doesn't like _me_. He thought I was someone else."

"Someone else?"

"Yeah. I told him I knew who he was and he was like, yeah, I know who you are too." He lets out a soft little snort of laughter. "And then he guessed wrong."

"So?"

Nate frowns. "So?"

"So, let's say you're wrong. The guy you think it is? It's not. You're wrong. Do you still like him?"

"I hope so. Depends on who he is, I guess."

"Okay, yeah, let's pretend you're not a misanthropic asshole who hates everyone. This is _Monty_ , remember? Monty likes you." Nate stops in his tracks, and Bellamy takes a few seconds to notice. When he does, he turns back, looking smug. "Sorry, was I supposed to pretend I didn't know you had a crush on Monty? You didn't pretend to not know I didn't have a crush on Clarke."

"You never said."

"I figured it was a bigger deal. Coming out, whatever--I didn't want to steal your thunder. Is he, uh--I heard him and Clarke talking about bisexuality but I didn't really want to tell them I was eavesdropping, so is he--into guys?"

"Yeah, he's bi." _I came out to one of my best friends recently_ , he remembers Taiga writing. _She's bi too I guess, so that's cool. We had a good talk._

"Cool. So you shouldn't be a letdown."

"What if it was you? What if you thought you'd been talking to Clarke, and it turned out it was--Ontari."

"Dude, you're not fucking _Ontari_. Like I said, Monty likes you. This would be like--I was talking to someone, and I thought it was Clarke, and it's actually, I don't know, Harper. And then I guess I'd have a tough choice to make, if I liked her as much as it sounds like Monty likes you."

The statement makes heat rush up his neck. Monty likes _him_. _Monty_ likes him. Monty _likes_ him.

Whatever part he emphasizes, it's still unbelievable.

"I guess I figure it can go two ways," Bellamy goes on. "One, he's like you. He already likes this other guy--" He cuts himself off, frowning. "Who is it? Do you know?"

He shakes his head. "He just gave me some clues. I know it's not me, but no idea who it actually is."

"Okay, well, whatever. He sucks."

Nate smiles. "Thanks."

"Any time. So, this asshole. Yeah, maybe Monty already has a thing for him, so he wanted him to be his penpal. But it might be the other way around." At Nate's blank look, he bumps their shoulders together. "Maybe he likes this guy because he thought he was you. And now that he's not, that's it. He's not interested anymore." He pauses. "Seriously, I love you, but it would be so fucking stupid to give up on this just because he _guessed wrong_."

"It's not just that."

"Yeah? What else is it?"

"I know Monty likes me. Monty likes _everyone_. But--that doesn't mean he wants to date _me_."

"Yeah, he might not," Bellamy agrees. "That's why you should ask him."

"And you should ask Clarke out."

Bellamy snorts. "That's what I get for being supportive."

"I'm serious. You should. I think she'd go out with you, if you just told her you're interested. Like a normal person."

"Novel concept." He smiles with half his mouth. "I know I'm not exactly being--I'm not saying it's easy or anything. I know it's not. But--it sounds like you've really got a chance. You should go for it. And if it doesn't work out, I'll buy the ice cream."

"You're a good friend," says Nate, and it doesn't come out sarcastically at all.

"You're going to be fine," Bellamy tells him. "Trust me."

Bellamy makes him stay for dinner, of course, and he doesn't let himself check his email until he gets home. He's got an email from Taiga that confirms everything. _Sorry I was wrong, but I still want to meet you. Fair's fair, right? You know who I am._

He's even signed it _Love, Monty_ , and Nate reads it three more times, heart in his throat, before he closes the laptop and falls on his back into bed with one arm over his eyes.

It would be fair. And Bellamy's right, he should at least _try_. But it's somehow so daunting. And Nate figured it out. Granted, he had a huge assist from Jasper, but--Nate is sure there were clues about his own identity, too. His alias, Elric, is basically useless; he came up with it because he was looking at his bookshelves when he was trying to come up with a username, and he saw his _Fullmetal Alchemist_ manga up there and went with it. It's personal, but he's not sure how to really drop hints about it.

But he can figure it out.

He has English third period the next day, and when he arrives, Monty is already there, sitting on Ms. Arden's weird, sketchy couch with Bellamy, who moves so Nate can slot in between them, Just barely, though. Monty is definitely very, very close to him.

"Hey," says Bellamy.

"Hey," he says. He lets his eyes flick to Monty. "Hey."

"Hey," says Monty, although he sounds a little subdued. He's probably waiting for Nate's email. He's probably sad he hasn't gotten it yet.

"How's the play going?" Bellamy offers, and that gets a smile.

"Honestly, I'm so ready for it to be done. Don't get me wrong, it's fun, but--I barely even have _lines_ , it shouldn't be this much work."

"Yeah, imagine how much it must suck for those of us with real parts," Clarke says. She's looking between them on the couch and, after a second, she knocks Bellamy's knee with her own so he'll make room for her between the arm of the couch and himself. 

Monty flashes Nate a small, private smile, this _can you believe these dorks_ look that makes Nate's heart stutter.

Then Clarke says, "Oh, Monty, Jackson gave me something for you."

"Jackson?" asks Bellamy, watching as Clarke roots through her bag.

"Eric Jackson? My car's in the shop, so he gave me a ride in. Apparently this has been in his bag for a few days and he's been forgetting to give it to you," she adds to Monty. "He figured I'd see you first." It's a comic book, a _DC_ comic book, so--that's probably the guy. The guy Monty thought was _him_. Goes by his last name, talks DC, and Eric is pretty common, as names go. He could want to be a doctor.

And Nate doesn't think he imagines the slight flush in Monty's cheeks at the sound of his name. But--he doesn't look happy. If anything, he looks vaguely uncomfortable, like he wishes Clarke had just forgotten about the whole thing.

Maybe it's like Bellamy said; maybe if Monty liked this guy, it was because he thought he was Elric. He wasn't hoping Eric Jackson was Elric because he likes Eric Jackson, Eric Jackson just said something that made Monty think he _could_ be Elric.

Fuck, the similar names might have done half the work for him. Nate should have thought this shit through.

But he didn't, so now he just has to do fucking _better_.

He clears his throat, lets himself turn to Monty and ask, "What's that?"

" _Superman: Red Son_ ," says Monty, giving him a smile. "Honestly, for a nerd, I feel like I'm not great on comic books? There are just so many of them. So, you know. It's a project. Expanding my horizons."

"Cool," says Nate. "Let me know if it's any good."

As starts go, it's not great, and he spends the rest of the day trying to figure out how he's supposed to deal with this. The simple way to do it would be to just--tell Monty. He doesn't even have to do it in _person_ , he could just respond to the email. But there's nothing he can think of that really feels--good. After all this time, it feels anticlimactic to just say _Yeah, it's Miller_.

Or maybe he's just still kind of a fucking coward.

When he gets home, he checks his email, but then he remembers Monty's at practice, and it's his turn to reply _anyway_. He stares at the open response for a long time, wondering how with all this time, he still can't find something to say. Talking to Monty has always been so _easy_ , and now here he is, struggling to come up with a single letter to type.

He's working on his homework, glancing at the screen periodically, when he sees Monty has sent another message, and he opens it with some combination of nausea and excitement. 

He's so bad at this. Why does anyone think he's even _capable_ of dating?

 _I know I'm probably not what you were hoping for_ , Monty writes, and Nate's heart lodges somewhere in his chest. _If I'm not what you were looking for, or not what you wanted, I get it. But you're one of my best friends, and I don't want to lose you over anything. Especially not this. You don't have to tell me who you are. But please don't stop being my friend._

He's typing without thinking, because there's only one response to that: _Never._

And then he goes on eBay and starts working on a grand gesture.

*

"I can't believe your big love story involves Magic cards," says Bellamy. He's lying on Nate's bed, tossing a stress ball in the air. Which is, ironically, very stressful for Nate. He's totally going to break something. "Actually, never mind, I can. I can't believe I was there when you found out and you didn't tell me, though. I knew you were acting weird. I figured it was just seeing Monty in the wild."

"He's the one who based his fake email address on a Magic card," Nate shoots back. "That's not even my fault." He exhales. "This is good, right? It works."

"I'm pretty sure anything would work. He likes you. It doesn't have to be complicated."

"Maybe I want it to be complicated. I want him to--he deserves to feel appreciated okay? It's going to be special."

"Never knew you were a romantic," he teases. But he sobers almost immediately, of course. "I get that. I'm just saying--if you want to do this, cool. But I'm pretty sure if you just told him, like-- _Hey, it's me, I'm your internet boyfriend_ , he'd jump you."

"Maybe this is why you're single."

"Yeah, you're right. I should be giving Clarke a Japanese comic book full of Magic cards."

"Because whatever you're doing right now is working out so well for you."

"Shut up," he says, without heat. "Not all of us can accidentally start anonymously flirting with our crushes on the internet, okay?"

"Yeah, but you can actually _talk_ to Clarke."

"Not without putting my foot in my mouth," he says, which is true, but, as always, Nate's not convinced that's really hurting his chances. Clarke remains, by all appearances, very fond of Bellamy. 

"Yeah, that's why I'm not even trying," says Nate. "Magic cards, comic book, note. That's it. No actual interaction required."

"Definitely the best Magic-the-Gathering-based love confession I've ever heard of. You're just going to leave it at his locker?"

"If I give it to him, it's going to be awkward."

"He's going to find out it's from you eventually, right? That's the whole point."

"Yeah, but I really don't want to be there when he does."

Bellamy shrugs. "You're the expert. Seems like you know him pretty well by now."

Nate has to smile. "Fuck, I hope so."

The actual plan is pretty simple. Nate went on eBay and bought a Taiga--one of the cheaper ones, because he will never in his life pay more than $100 for a Magic card, no matter how much he loves Monty--and a Millstone, and he's supplemented them with a few other mill cards. None of that's his _name_ , but--the moment of discovery is exciting. He wants Monty to have that. He wants him to figure it out.

Between the milling and the Taiga, he thinks Monty will get it. But he's also including a note with four facts about himself:

_1\. I go by my last name._  
2\. My first name was the 30th most popular boy's name in our birth year.  
3\. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  
4\. We talked a little about DC comics, but not until after you tried to guess who I was. It was a pretty shitty conversation. I don't talk much. Especially around you. 

He pauses there, debating, but if he's going for the romantic gesture, he might as well go all out. So he adds, _I'm not good around guys I like_ and adds his phone number.

He puts the cards and the note in an envelope, hides the envelope in a copy of the first volume of _Fullmetal Alchemist_ , and puts a post-it note on the cover that just says, _For your comic collection_. He signs it with just the letter E and honestly feels pretty good about the whole thing, in spite of Bellamy's teasing.

It's probably going to be fine.

Monty gets rides to school with Jasper and is therefore basically always if not _late_ then at least heavily delayed, but Nate still has Bellamy pick him up a little early, just to be on the safe side. Monty's locker isn't that far from his, so he and Bellamy keep an eye on the bag from their usual hangout by Mr. Pike's room, making sure no one steals it before Monty gets to it.

It's still terrifying when Monty does show up, earlier than usual and with Clarke. Nate watches him out of the corner of his eye as Clarke comes over to bait Bellamy with yet another meaningless argument, sees his confused frown at the existence of the bag and then the flash of his smile when he reads the note.

He doesn't open the book, but wraps it back in the plastic bag and stows it carefully in his backpack. Which is maybe for the best, because then he won't find out _now_ , while Nate is right here, watching him--

Bellamy steps on Nate's foot, and Nate jerks his eyes to him.

"Your class sounds so shitty," he's telling Clarke. "I'm glad I've got Cartwig for calc. Her problem sets make sense."

"Yeah, brag about it." She's looking at Nate, expectant, and maybe if the Monty thing works out, they can join forces to get Bellamy and Clarke squared away. Because Bellamy is basically the best friend in the entire world, and Nate can't think of a present nice enough to show his appreciation.

"Fuck that problem set," he says, with feeling, and Clarke smiles.

"Seriously. You want to compare answers before class?"

Monty's gone again, and Nate's entire body is thrumming with adrenaline. "Yeah, that sounds great."

He's on edge all day. Every time he sees Monty, he's waiting for _something_. Because Monty has to be able to figure it out, right? The Magic cards, the comic book conversation--even if he can't look up the thirtieth most popular boys' name in 2000, or is using a different website than Nate was, he should be able to put this together.

But he's cheerful, friendly, and completely and totally normal, and Nate kind of wants to crawl into a corner and die. He'd been prepared for getting let down easily. He'd even let himself think about getting good news, about Monty being happy, or at least not sad, about his identity.

He hadn't thought about Monty not figuring it out.

"He's probably not even going to look at it until he gets home," Bellamy points out. "And it's tech week, so he won't have much free time. Maybe you should have waited until after the play was over."

"Wow," says Nate, unimpressed. "That's great advice you could have given me last week, when you were telling me to just make a fucking move already."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty. And if you just sent him an email saying, _it's Miller_ , you wouldn't have this issue."

"Dude, aren't you supposed to have a sense of drama? And romance."

"But also a desire to just get laid already."

"Yeah, that explains why you were beating yourself up for a month over making out with Roma. Your incredible desire to get laid."

"Shut up."

"Thanks," he says, feeling a little choked up. Mocking Bellamy is his default, but it feels a little wrong like now. "You've been, uh--you're a good friend."

"Fluffy marshmallow, right?" he asks, not making eye contact.

Nate smiles. "The fluffiest."

"I guess someone's got to do it."

He tries to tell himself that Bellamy is right, that it's tech week and Monty is busy, and it's possible he hasn't even _looked_ at the book. Because Bellamy almost certainly _is_ right. All of their friends in the play are basically the walking dead at this point. Monty's probably getting home, doing the minimal required amount of homework, and immediately passing out.

Still, by Friday, he's anxious enough that even his father has noticed, which is saying a lot.

Not, of course, that David Miller is a bad or inattentive father. He is, primarily, a _busy_ father. He does his best to make time for important things, comes to as many of Nate's soccer games as he can and checks in with his son regularly, but since he was promoted to chief of police, his schedule has been busy. He works long hours, and he's not always home for dinner or breakfast. But he always tries to be around for dinner on Friday, a tradition both of them value. 

They're eating early this week, because the conclusion of tech week is the actual _play_ , and he and Bellamy are of course going to the premiere. Even though they saw it in previews today. They can plausibly say they're just being supportive friends. If anyone asks.

"What's the play you're seeing again?" his father asks.

"Just the school one. _Into the Woods_. Bellamy likes one of the girls in it," he adds, feeling the need to justify their going to the play for the first time ever.

"And you?"

Nate's blood runs cold. "Yeah, I like her. She's in a few of my classes, she's cool."

"I wasn't thinking you and Bellamy liked the same girl," his father says, sounding fondly amused. "I hope you don't, it sounds as if that would be awkward. But you've been jumpy all week. Is something wrong?"

Coming out to his father has always been a goal, vague and undefined. He'd like to do it someday, but he never had any idea what would motivate him, aside from getting a boyfriend. If he ever got one, he thought he'd say it.

But there's nothing stopping him just doing it.

"There's a boy I like," he admits. It's not as strange, the second time. "He's in the play."

His father's hand pauses as he brings a forkful of pasta to his mouth, but only for a second. He chews and swallows and says, "Well, that's good. Tell me about him."

"His name's Monty."

"And do you think he likes you too?"

The thought of the book that Monty maybe hasn't even read, the cards and the confession he hasn't looked at, makes his heart twist up. "I think he might," he says, and some of the tension eases when his father smiles.

"Well, good," says David. "He should."

*

Nate thinks he wouldn't mind being a theater kid, if he could get over his shyness. Which he probably could, if the Monty issue got resolved. It's much easier for him to talk in front of a large group of people than to just speak to the boy he likes, which makes him feel like he's cursed, except he's starting to realize _everyone_ has something like this. Bellamy can hook up with Roma Fletcher and Brie Allen, talk casually about his bisexuality and making out with Nate, but when he tries to actually make a move on Clarke, he sabotages himself as soon as he realizes it's going well. His social circle is full of couples that seem so _obvious_ , and none of them have figured it out.

He's bad at this, but he's not _uniquely_ bad at it.

Case in point: they're planning to just leave after the show, but they run into Harper and Sterling and are informed that they should go back and congratulate the cast. Bellamy makes a face like Harper told him to jump into a vat of boiling oil, and Nate doesn't feel much better, but they're swept up in the general crowd and find themselves lingering in the back stage area, waiting for the cast to emerge. If he looks at it from an objective standpoint, as an uninvolved outsider, he knows it's not _actually_ awkward. The hallway is packed with well-wishers, and Nate and Bellamy _do_ have friends here. They eat lunch with Monty and Clarke every day. They like them. It would probably be weirder if they left without saying anything.

The first cast members out are people Nate doesn't really know, a couple freshmen who had no lines, a senior who's in his gym class, and they're flushed with excitement, grinning and triumphant. It takes about ten seconds for the area to devolve into an incoherent mass of hugging. It reminds him of the end of a winning soccer game, except instead of just the team being a pile of giddy limbs, it's _everyone_. The senior hugs Nate, one of the freshmen hugs Bellamy, and it's mostly just funny. Everyone is so _excited_. There's so much love going around that it's just spilling everywhere.

Clarke makes it out before Monty, and Nate's pretty sure the way she lights up at the sight of them makes Bellamy's entire _year_. She fights her way through the crowd and throws her arms around Nate for a quick hug.

"Hey!" she says. "Thanks for coming, you guys!"

"It was pretty good the first time," Bellamy says, gruff. "Seemed worth seeing again." She's standing in front of him, but _not_ hugging him, and the whole thing is kind of endearingly awkward. From Clarke's smile, she knows it, too. "You were great," he adds, voice turning soft, and she laughs.

"Don't be a dumbass, Bellamy," she teases, like she doesn't even _know him_ , but it works, because when she steps into his arms, he wraps her up, and she burrows against him.

Nate looks away to give them some privacy, catching sight of Monty completely by accident. He's by the stage door with an older couple Nate assumes are his parents, grinning and reaching out for hugs of his own as people pass.

He makes himself swallow, weaving his way through the crowd alone. He's not so bad a friend that he's going to interrupt whatever Bellamy is doing just to have a wing man. He can tell Monty he did a good job all by himself. It's not hard.

And somehow, it really isn't. There's kind of a receiving line, not just for Monty, but for a few of the other actors in the area, and Nate gets in it. Monty grins at the sight of him, and they hug in an easy, casual way that makes him feel kind of stupid for worrying about it in the first place.

"Thanks for coming!" says Monty.

"You were great," he says. "Really sold your three lines."

His delight only seems to grow. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Little bit."

"Where's Bellamy?"

"I don't go everywhere with Bellamy," he says, but he can't keep it up. "He was hugging Clarke. I'm not getting in the way of that."

"Good call. You can hang out with me until they come up for air."

It doesn't actually take long. Nate has a sight line on the two of them, and they aren't even hugging any more, just talking, but they're talking in a way he's not used to seeing, Bellamy's face soft as he looks at her, Clarke smiling up at him. It feels like the first big step to something inevitable, and he can't help smiling himself.

"He does like her, right?" Monty asks. "She's not just--I don't know. A challenge? A trophy?" He flashes a smile. "Sorry. I still have trouble trusting jocks."

"You're asking me. I'm a jock."

"Not like _Bellamy's_ a jock," he says.

"He's not a jock like that either," he says without thinking. It's easy to talk about Bellamy. Even with Monty. "He just wants everyone to think he is." He wets his lips. "He's crazy about her, yeah. He's just bad at it."

"Good. And you like me now, right?" he asks. Nate nearly chokes, but he doesn't notice. "We're totally friends."

"I like you," he says, mouth dry, and it feels like the moment. He could do it casually, ask Monty if he got a chance to look at the comic. That would do it.

But Bellamy and Clarke have separated, and Bellamy noticed him, and when he cocks his head at Nate, Nate takes the out. He nods, and Bellamy makes his way over to them, gives Monty a hug and congratulations of his own.

"How many more shows do you have?" he asks, taking the pressure off Nate.

"Tomorrow and a Sunday matinee, and then we're free. Until auditions for the winter play, anyway."

"Yeah? When's that? I bet me and Miller could fit that in before soccer."

"Speak for yourself," says Nate, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

"Dude, you would _love_ to have an excuse to monologue. It's Shakespeare, right? _Julius Caesar_?"

"Oh, that's why you want to do it," says Nate, and Bellamy elbows him.

"Shut up." He clears his throat, gives Nate a thoughtful look. "I need to get O. You coming, or you got another ride?"

"Coming," he says. But he lets himself look at Monty again, smile. "Good job."

"Thanks for coming, guys," Monty says. "It means a lot. To all of us," he adds, definitely for Bellamy's benefit.

"I assume you're coming to our soccer games, right? That's how friendship works."

"You want me to watch _sports_?" Monty asks, horrified, and then he gives both of them one more quick hug and they say goodbye, and the two of them are quiet until they're most of the way to Bellamy's car.

"Are you going to ask him about the book?" Bellamy asks.

"Maybe. Are you going to tell Clarke you want to marry her?"

"Only if I can't find the right Magic card to say it for me," he says, and Nate laughs.

He hasn't emailed Monty since he gave him the book, and he's been missing it. It's just hard to know what to say. Their true identities stretch between them, this gulf that Nate has tried to cross, but refuses to just destroy, like he could with a single email.

But it's been a good night, and Nate is thrumming with it, so he opens up his Elric email and writes, _I came out to my best friend, and to my dad. I knew they'd be good with it, but it's still just a huge relief. I told them about you too_ , he lets himself add. _Just that there's a boy I like. My best friend already knew everything, that I was gay and that I liked you. But he didn't mention it until I did, so that was nice of him._

His fingers twitch on the keyboard, wrestling with the temptation to add something about the book, to ask if Monty's had a chance to look at it yet. But Bellamy's right--he's been busy with the play. Nate's timing was off. He can give it a few more days, until Monty's priorities shift.

So instead he adds, _You were great in the play. Good luck with the rest of your shows_ , and sends that instead.

It makes him feel like a bit of an asshole, rubbing the way he knows Monty's identity in his face, but it feels weirder pretending he _doesn't_ know Monty's identity. If it were him--

Well, if it were him, he'd be ripping what little hair he has out trying to figure out who Taiga was. And Monty could be doing that too. He might not realize there's anything special in the book. He might not think it's a clue.

Monday, Nate decides. Once the play is over, he'll figure out what he's going to do. It's only a few days. He can wait.

But, as it turns out, Monty can't. His reply comes the next morning, and it's so perfect it makes Nate ache with it: _I'm so proud of you for coming out. But, I'm going to be honest. What I really want to do is be proud in person. I want to know who you are. I want to hold your hand and make jokes with you and kiss you. I don't remember if I've ever said that, but I do. And if you don't want to do any of that with me, that's fine. We don't have to. But I want to know what it's like to be with you. And I hope you want that too. So there's some fair by the middle school on Sunday, and the cast of the play is going to celebrate the end of the show. I'm hoping you'll come say hi. I really want you to. I want to meet you._

Nate's been planning to go to the fair because Bellamy's going, and Bellamy is most of his social life. Octavia's class has a fundraising booth that she's working at, so Bellamy will be there the whole time, fretting and giving them more money than he really has, and Nate will be right there with him, doing the same.

It hadn't occurred to him that Monty might go, but it probably is the perfect way for the the theater kids to celebrate the end of the show. Blow off some steam, eat way too much junk food and run around. Even without anything to celebrate, it seems pretty great.

 _I'll be there, yeah_ , he writes back, and can't help adding, _You should check out that comic book I gave you, if you haven't yet_.

There's no response before the play, but Nate wasn't really expecting one. He and Bellamy go to the last matinee of the play because they're kind of sad, but they don't go back stage. Which possibly makes it even sadder, but at least they're alone in their sadness.

Alone together.

"Is there a kissing booth?" Nate asks, as they drive over to the fair. "You can volunteer."

"Clarke would have to decide she was going to pay to kiss me, that doesn't sound likely. It's fine, okay? I'll just hang out with her and try not to get in a fight."

"And then not make out with anyone else if you do get in a fight with her," he says. "I assume you learned your lesson on that one."

"I'd make out with you, but you've got a boyfriend now, so, yeah. No one." He glances at Nate. "Are you just going to tell him?"

"Hoping I don't have to. But yeah, I'll just tell him."

"Good." He grins. "I can't believe something good came from tumblr."

Nate rolls his eyes. "Dude, don't jinx it. It could still blow up in my face."

They get to the fair relatively before any of their friends and find Octavia's booth to start. Nate's not completely sure how he's supposed to find Monty, but they have post-show stuff to do, so he assumes it'll be a while anyway. 

And, honestly, either Monty looked at the comic and knows it's him, or he didn't, in which case he'll be hanging out with Clarke, who will almost certainly be on the lookout for Bellamy, so it seems pretty likely that they'll end up in the same place regardless.

They usually do. That's nice too.

"Ferris wheels are a thing, right?" Bellamy is saying, when Nate spots Monty. "I could ask her to ride the Ferris wheel. That's romantic."

It takes a few tries to make his voice work. Clarke's there too, of course, her eyes sharp as she looks for something, and Nate lets himself think it's him. Or Bellamy. One of the two of them, for sure.

"You could," he says. "Now's your chance."

"Shit," says Bellamy, sitting up straighter. They're just hanging out at an empty table near the concession stand, because they are those loitering teenage assholes, and Nate is suddenly aware of every inch of his body. He could look cooler, right? He could have shaved better. He could be wearing a nicer shirt. "You good?" he adds.

"What if he's disappointed?"

"Then fuck him, he's an asshole." But he gives Nate a sober look. "He's not going to be disappointed." And then he jumps off the table and goes over to grab Clarke. It's surprisingly smooth, for him, and Clarke shoots Nate just one warning look before she follows him to parts unknown.

He has a second to hope it goes well for the two of them before Monty takes over every inch of his brain. He's looking good, as always, but Nate can't help noticing he's wearing a Magic t-shirt, one he's never seen, along with jeans. His hair is still artfully disheveled, like they've been doing it for the play, and he's got his contacts in. And he's walking straight to Nate.

He sits on the edge of the table, next to Nate but not quite touching him.

"Did you know I didn't know your first name?" he asks, by way of greeting. "Even the teachers call you _Mr. Miller_ , I feel like. It's kind of weirdly formal, now that I think about it." 

His voice isn't working, because of course it's not. Monty Green is right here, and he knows who Nate is, and all he has to do is not fuck it up. And his stupid voice won't come out.

"Nathan," he continues, thoughtful. "Assuming we're looking at the same baby name list, but why wouldn't you just use the top google hit?"

"Nate," he manages. "I, uh--my dad calls me Nate."

"Nate," says Monty, like he's tasting it.

"Yeah," he says. "That's me." And then, because it feels important, "Sorry I didn't tell you. Who I was."

"I was thinking about how easy it was for me," says Monty. "That you knew. That you were _right_. It would have been really weird if you thought I was, like--Bellamy."

"Bellamy?"

"Or Wells, or--some hot guy."

He frowns. "You're some hot guy, Monty."

Even though he's biting the corner of his mouth, Nate can see his smile, bright and a little embarrassed. It doesn't quite feel _real_ , sitting next to Monty Green, joking around. Actually talking to him, and somehow on the same page.

"Yeah?"

He worries his lip, but--it's not that bad. It's more like talking to Taiga than he expected it would be. All the familiar attraction is there, the same as always, but they're friends, right? They feel like friends.

"Why do you think I suck so much at talking to you?"

"Your best friend is _Bellamy_ ," says Monty, gaping. "You talk to him all the time."

"I'm not into him."

"But you're into me." It's not a question, and Nate shrugs, shifts a little. "And you were into me before the email thing, right? That's what--" His mouth tugs up on the left. "I guess it must have been kind of shitty. When I thought you were Jackson."

"I got lucky," he says. "With the Magic tournament." But now that he's talking, it's not so hard to keep going. "I thought it might be you at Halloween. When you told me about the drama at the party. But it wasn't conclusive or anything."

He bumps his shoulder against Nate's. "You weren't even there."

"Bellamy's great at live-texting drama."

"I guess that's not surprising. But you're changing the subject!" 

"I am?"

"Yeah. The subject is: you totally liked me. Before."

"And?" he asks, voice coming out more defensive than he'd like.

"It's cool," says Monty. "I didn't really--I thought I wasn't one of those guys." At Nate's raised eyebrow, he clarifies, "People don't get crushes on me."

"How would you know?" he asks. From what he can tell, no one in his friend group has any idea how feelings work. If anyone's ever had a crush on him, he has no fucking clue. Bellamy notices maybe a third of the time, and he's better at it than anyone else Nate knows.

He laughs. "Well, I didn't think they did. I didn't think _you_ did."

"Yeah, I was hoping you didn't," Nate admits. "I didn't really want you to."

"But I can know now, right? I don't have to pretend like you're not basically my boyfriend."

He says it so casually, but Nate's entire body is racing. Because this should not have gone so well for him. It shouldn't be possible. Monty Green not only likes him, but probably knows him better than _anyone_ , even better than Bellamy. He knows things about Nate no one else knows, even embarrassing things.

"I thought you'd be disappointed it was me," he says. "That you'd want someone--"

Monty reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a squeeze, and then instantly lets go. "Sorry, that was a gesture. But I should have checked that you were--"

Nate reclaims his hand. It's soft and dry, large and solid in Nate's own. Which is good, because he needs this to feel as real as possible. "I don't mind."

"I'm glad it's you," he says. With a teasing grin, he adds, "Maybe you'll finally start talking to me."

"I've been talking to you for a while."

Monty rests his head on Nate's shoulder, slightly awkward, still getting used to the fit. "Yeah, I guess you have."

*

Nate would like to say it's not at all awkward, and it eventually isn't, but it does take him a little while to relax. Even knowing Monty is Taiga, having known for a while, it's hard to figure out their real-life interaction. Like the touching, it's something they have to get used to. Part of Nate still sees Monty and sees, well. The boy he has a crush on. This impossible person who can't possibly like _him_.

If not for the emails, he'd probably be worried. Not that Monty is shallow or anything, just that Monty likes things about him that aren't real, likes the idea of him, this blank slate he can project his fantasies onto. People do that sometimes, when you're quiet. In elementary school, he had as many teachers convinced he's a secret misunderstood genius as who have thought he might need to be held back for social issues.

Now, though, he's just tongue-tied around cute boys, but Monty isn't just a cute boy anymore. He's so much better. And he knows Nate is better too. He knows who Nate is.

They fair itself isn't that impressive, but it has some decent rides. They go on a few of those, grab hot dogs, and Nate's feeling pretty good about his life by the time they run into Clarke and Bellamy, who have picked up Raven, Wells, Jasper, and a few others, at the shooting gallery. He and Monty showing up together, hand in hand, clearly raises a few eyebrows, especially from Jasper, and Monty gives Nate a look he has no trouble interpreting. When he nods, Monty squeezes his hand once and goes to pull Jasper aside.

Nate goes to Bellamy, because just because he has a boyfriend doesn't mean he knows how to talk about it.

"Nice bear," he says, and Bellamy gives it a squeeze.

"Thanks. I didn't believe Clarke when she said she could work an air rifle, so--"

"I kicked his ass," Clarke says, smug. "Rich white people like hunting too."

"You're a role model," he says. His eyes flick over Nate, like he's checking him for wounds. "Good?"

"Assuming that goes okay," Nate says, ostensibly to Bellamy, but he's looking at Clarke, as the expert on the Monty/Jasper friendship.

She inclines her head. "I think so. He was kind of hurt that Monty came out to me before he came out to him, but I think that's kind of a separate thing. He knew about you, but not--" Her gaze is calculating. "None of us knew who you were until today."

He shrugs. "Guess I'm sneakier than Monty."

"Yeah, we all knew that," says Bellamy. "But he's not pissed?"

"Have you met Monty?" Clarke asks. "I've seen him pissed like twice."

"I think he gets it," Nate says. "This shit's hard."

"You're a poet," Bellamy says, juggling the giant bear in his arms so he can clap Nate on the shoulder. "Happy for you."

"Thanks," he says. It feels easy. "I think it might actually be okay."

Bellamy snorts. "Don't get carried away." He glances at Clarke. "I think we're going on the Ferris wheel after this. You guys want to come?"

"I hear it's romantic. You going with the bear?"

"Yeah, I think we've got a real connection," he says, looking down at it. "I've got a good feeling about this one."

Monty and Jasper are coming back, and they seem fine. Monty's smiling, and Jasper is kind of squinting at Nate suspiciously, but he can't be worried about that. If Bellamy didn't already know Monty, he'd e wary too. And Nate doesn't wear his personality on his sleeve, like Monty does. He and Jasper haven't bonded, and for all he knows, they never will.

But he's going to be good for Monty. That much he's sure of.

"Yeah," he tells Bellamy. "It's going pretty well."

Part of him wants to be alone with Monty, but they'll have more chances for that, so they stay with their friends instead. Bellamy decides he wants to prove he's also good at winning things before they hit more rides, so they go to one of the booths which involves throwing balls at things to knock shit over, and he and Bellamy both manage to get giant stuffed animals for their respective people. They get snow-cones and check in on Octavia again and end up in the Ferris wheel right before it closes. They pair off in an automatic way, and it makes Nate's heart flip that yesterday, he would have ended up with Bellamy, because Bellamy would be too stubborn to just go with Clarke and leave him alone, and Monty would have gone with Jasper. 

But now he and Monty are the natural pair, like Wells and Raven, and Bellamy can go with Clarke like he wants to, and Jasper goes with Maya Vie, one of Clarke's art friends, and everyone seems good. 

It feels like everything is going to work out.

"You and Jasper okay?" he asks Monty, once they're alone. They're holding hands again, and the sky is dark and endless around them. Bellamy was right; it _is_ romantic.

Monty's thumb rubs against his skin. "Yeah. It helped that I didn't tell anyone else about you either. He found out the same time Clarke did, Clarke was just more help because she knew where Bellamy was going to be. And we talked a lot before about how--coming out isn't logical, I guess."

"Feelings aren't logical," Nate grumbles, and Monty laughs.

"I don't know. You're smart and funny, secretly nice, stupidly hot--makes perfect sense to me. Totally logical."

Nate smiles. "Are you sucking up to me?"

"Little bit." He scoots closer, lowers his voice like he's sharing a secret. "I want to make out."

Nate's kissed one person in his life, Luna Waters, playing spin-the-bottle at a party in tenth grade. The rest of the soccer team acted like this was some awesome honor, because Luna is hot, and wanted to know how it was. And, of course, he didn't really have a good answer for that, because it had just sort of _happened_. He pressed his mouth against her mouth for a few seconds, and then it was over. He'd had about as much reaction to it as when he had to kiss his grandmother at Christmas, but it was somehow even _more_ awkward, because no one expects you to gossip about kissing your grandmother. But he bumbled through and managed to avoid getting into any other situations where he was _expected_ to kiss girls, which seemed like a blessing right up until now. 

Because of course he wants to kiss Monty. He's thought about it. He talked to Taiga about it, how neither of them has that much experience, but both of them want more. Monty _likes_ kissing, even though he found it stressful before, fretting about how much he really liked the people he was kissing.

He likes Nate. When Nate's tongue darts out to wet his lips, Monty's eyes follow the movement, even in the darkness.

"You don't really have to work for that," he says, voice rough, and there's the flash of Monty's teeth as he smiles.

"I wanted to be sure," he says, and Nate gets that. More than gets it, really. But he's sure enough.

He's never been surer.

He slides his hand into Monty's hair, sees his eyes flutter shut, and then they're kissing, slow and a little tentative, but still enough to have Nate's heart racing. In many ways, Monty's mouth isn't that different from Luna's, a little rougher, with a slight scrape of stubble, but lips are lips. 

So it doesn't make any sense, how much better this is, except that it's _Monty_ , not just the boy he's had a crush on for almost a year, but his internet pen pal, one of his most trusted friends, one of his favorite people.

His boyfriend.

It doesn't take them long to get the hang of the whole kissing thing, and then Nate's simultaneously grateful and annoyed that they're on a fucking _Ferris wheel_ , because all he wants to do is settle in and do this for hours, but the constant strange jerking of the ride reminds him that they're basically in public, so he can't.

Not yet, anyway.

Monty's the one to pull back and make it stick, actually moving out of Nate's personal space, breathing hard. "Wow," he says.

"Wow," Nate agrees.

"So do soccer players get letter jackets? Is that mine now? I don't know how this works. Am I--"

They're not quite to the bottom yet, so Nate kisses him again, quick. "My boyfriend," he says, and Monty ducks his head, grinning Nate's favorite grin.

"Boyfriend works for me."

Jasper offers Nate a ride home, but he's taking Clarke and Maya too, and they're just going home, so Nate says he'll wait around to get Octavia with Bellamy. They don't kiss goodbye, but Monty texts him within five minutes about how Jasper has clearly decided that he and Maya are meant to be now, and Nate feels a ridiculous grin growing on his face.

This is how it's going to be now. This is what he gets.

"Your face is going to freeze like that," Bellamy says.

"Shut up. You make a move on Clarke yet?"

"Not yet. It takes time, right?" he adds, sounding thoughtful. "Might as well do it right."

"Worked for me," Nate says, and Bellamy snorts.

"Fuck, you're going to be nauseating now, aren't you? I can't believe I wanted you to be happy. It's like I don't even know you anymore."

"Dick," says Nate, and they shove each other for a second, the same as always.

But Octavia takes one look at them when she gets to the car and frowns. "Miller, why do you look _happy_?" she asks, and Bellamy loses it. So maybe he really _is_ a whole new person.

It's hard to be upset that his life is so good everyone can see it.

Even his dad notices the next morning, smiling at him across the breakfast table. "Good day yesterday?"

"Yeah." He ducks his head. "That guy I like. He likes me too. He's my boyfriend now."

"Good," says David. "You should invite him for dinner some Friday. I'd love to meet him."

"Give it more than a week, Dad."

"I said _some_ Friday, not this Friday," he says, and Nate has to smile.

"Some Friday, yeah."

Bellamy picks him up as usual, and he's never been more grateful to have English first on Mondays. The two of them get in first and claim the couch, Bellamy stretching out with his head in Nate's lap so that no one can get a seat without actually asking him to move. Even if hanging out with people like Wells and Monty is doing a number on Bellamy's reputation as a scary badass, he's still fairly intimidating when he wants to be, and there's no one better at looking unapproachable in repose.

"You're a dick," Nate tells him, and Bellamy pats his knee.

"You'll thank me when you and Monty can play footsie during class."

"Uh huh."

Clarke and Wells arrive before Monty does. Wells nudges Bellamy's foot with his knee, and Bellamy obligingly pulls his legs up, but Clarke sits on his chest before he has a chance to move, pushing the breath out of him.

"That's not actually comfortable, right?" Nate asks.

"I don't know. He's pretty solid," says Clarke. "Could be worse."

"Thanks," says Bellamy. "I was saving the seat _for you_ , princess."

"And I took it."

She does get off him once Monty and Jasper show up, and the six of them manage to crowd onto the couch, packed in like sardines. Nate's between Monty and Bellamy, and Clarke has her legs in Bellamy's lap so they'll all fit, and it feels like they're the ethnically diverse non-threatening poster children for some wholesome teen product none of them would ever buy.

"Hey," says Monty.

"Hey."

"Your arm's in the way," he says, poking it. "You should put it around me. It would be more comfortable. I'm just looking out for you," he adds with a grin.

Nate extricates his arm and gets it wrapped around Monty, tries not to think about the black eyes he and Bellamy are going to end up with, all the fights he won't even know about that the rest of the soccer team will get into on his behalf.

And they'll all do it, and do it happily, he realizes. That's the kind of lucky he is.

"Better?" he asks Monty, and Monty smiles, leans his head against Nate's shoulder.

"Much better," he says, and yeah. Nate has to agree.


End file.
